"She turns sideways in her seat and looks at me for a long moment… Something I didn’t notice before; just at the edge of her lip, a bit to the left, is a small crater in her skin, an old acne scar that eats slightly into the meat of her upper lip, disrupting its curve, forming a small swirl of off-color scar tissue there. Perfection is plastic, cold, and unyielding. Real beauty is a current that has to be grounded, and it’s these little defects that do it."